


Philip's Nest of Shrouds

by GentleClaw



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 10:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16742368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GentleClaw/pseuds/GentleClaw
Summary: Philip likes his shrouds. You don't mess with the shrouds.





	Philip's Nest of Shrouds

The other Killers had learned not to mess with Philips shrouds. He may be the quieter of the Killers, but he was very  _ very  _ possessive. And very scary when he wanted to be...   
  


~~~

  
_    Philips eyes wandered the map. Léry’s Memorial Institute was its name, but it was just another place to Philip. The straight hallways were a challenge for him, and his prey. The survivors had done well this round, three generators activated, only one person having been on the hook. The last part wasn’t surprising though, Philip didn’t like the killing. He liked watching the survivors, seeing how they interacted with each other. How sometimes they got excited on the swamp, and kept trying to activate the generator on The Pale Rose, jumping and cheering when it turned on and the fog horn went off. Or how they would curse when they wound up in the Meat Plant. The interactions were quite interesting during The Hollowed Blight, with the strange flowers, and a few killers changing appearance for a short time. As another generator turned on across the map, Philip kept looking. _

 

_    Movement to his left made him turn, and he set his sights on the young woman who had popped into sight. It was Michael's sister, he recognized her well enough for that. As Philip closed in, he raised his bell ready to uncloak and hit his target. The scream echoed down the corridors, and the other survivors were quick to come to the aid of their fallen friend. The last generator turned on, and Philip watched as the survivors left. He was not troubled by the outcome, the Entity didn’t seem to care so much if he got any sacrifices. As Philip was making his way back to the basement, and back to his nest, something else caught his eye. A knotted piece of fabric, remarkably clean and well cared for. Grabbing the fabric, Philip left the Institute.  _

 

~~~

 

   Max was interested in Philips new prize, but knew better than to mess with it. He remembered well what had happened the last time anyone had messed with Philips shrouds. That killer had been one of the oldest ones here, older even than Evan. They had kept to themselves, and weren’t exactly polite. When Philip claimed his room, and more importantly the closet in said room, the old killer had seemed to make a point of pushing Philips buttons. Philip was easy going, and never let the old ones antics get to him, but that changed. Oh did it change. 

 

   The old one came looking for Philip one day, and Philip was as polite and unruffled as ever. Getting bored of Philips unending neutrality, the old one grabbed a shroud from Philips closet and proceeded to blow their nose. The screams that followed sent chills down the backs of all who heard them, and the sound traveled throughout the fog. Even the survivors at their campfires could hear the sounds of agony, and they huddled close to each other, scared of the thing that could bring that sound out of someone. 

 

   The killers gathered outside Philips door, all of them wanting someone else to open the door and see what had happened. They quickly stepped back when Philip slammed open the door, his arms full of fabric. As they watched Philip march down the hallway towards a new room, the other killers looked in through the door. Evan covered Max’s eyes, not letting the younger man look, and even Sally’s skin had taken on a pale tone. Anna swallowed and closed the door. None of the killers spoke of what had happened, and most of them tried to forget that sight by chugging copious amounts of Thompson’s Moonshine. Not that it worked.   
  
That killer survived, though just barely. They avoided Philip at all costs, and it wasn’t long before the Entity moved them to a different place. As new killers joined the group, they were quickly warned not to mess with Philip’s fabrics. 

 

~~~

  
   The survivors had a faint idea that The Wraith liked pretty or interesting pieces of fabric, they had seen him pick them up from the maps on more than one occasion. Dwight even saw him climb on top of a generator to get a shroud that had been caught in some tree branches. It was Meg that figured out firsthand how much the fabric meant to The Wraith though.    
  
   The trial had not been going well for the survivors, two were already dead, Claudette was on a hook, and they still needed to activate three generators. The ring of the bell behind her sent Meg running, even as the first blow landed. Grunting, she vaulted a pallet, but wasn’t quick enough. The smack of The Wraiths weapon against her skin as she slid over the rough wood caused her to scream. Twisting over as The Wraith destroyed the pallet, she quickly reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out Vigo’s Shroud. It was a fairly plain piece of fabric, with a strip of color running along the edge, about a yard in size. Meg had found it in a chest earlier on, and now she hoped it would buy her an escape.    
  
   The Wraiths eyes locked onto the fabric that the woman held out to him. Walking forward, he took it from her hand. Looking between the survivor and the cloth, he nodded his head. This trial had gone very well for him after all. Making some placating motions with his hands, he reached down and picked up the survivor. She seemed to understand his intentions, and hung limply over his shoulder. The Wraith set her down next to the hatch, and simply waited for her to leave, running his fingers over the cloth in his hand.    
  
That shroud was kept near the center of Philips nest, were it wasn’t likely to pick up unwanted dirt.  


End file.
